


being a loser with you does not suck

by donniedorko



Series: i thank you for bringing me here- for showing me home. [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, IT movies
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Background Poly, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon Queer Relationship, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Good Boyfriend, Established Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone is Gay Except Ben Hanscom, F/M, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Male Character, Gay Richie Tozier, Gen, Jewish Richie Tozier, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Multi, Other, PTSD, Pansexual Character, Past Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris - Freeform, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Good Boyfriend, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie Tozier is basically gay john mulaney, Richie and Eddie adopt a dog named SJ which I stole from another fic, Tags Contain Spoilers, Uhhhh fuck, but Stan’s suicide attempt failed so nope he’s alive, im so tired and bad at tagging, so that’s scrapped, that's it I think, there won't probably be any smut so don't look for that, uhhh Pennywise is still dead, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedorko/pseuds/donniedorko
Summary: Richie knew Eddie had died with Pennywise.It had been for the best, the Losers had said.Richie disagreed but didn't voice this- scared he'd lose his only friends again.But things don't go as planned.And everything changes.





	1. i want to go where everyone goes, i want to know what everyone knows, i want to go where everyone feels the same (chapter one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie doesn't wanna let go, and doesn't understand why the other Losers do so quickly.
> 
> chapter title from "that green gentleman" by panic! at the disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for checking this out! This is my first Reddie fic but I hope you enjoy it!

The Losers had decided as a group that Richie had been right to want to take the body out of the building. After all, they'd held him back as he begged, pleaded, screamed for them to let go and let him go back.

"We can save him! He needs me! I need him! Eddie!" He'd screeched, tears streaming down his face, his face burning hot. "Let me go! Ben, Bill- fucking- let GO! EDDIE!"

They'd told him it was too dangerous to go back in, no matter what the circumstances where.

Richie had screamed in their faces. "Shut UP! You all have something to fucking live for! I don't! Eddie's all I have! He's all I've ever had!" He'd finally pushed them off, but by then it was too late.

The house collapsed in on itself, only leaving shattered pieces of glass and wood, splayed across the filthy lawn. Richie ran up to the gates, cradling a piece of Eddie's shirt he had torn like a life-line. "Eddie... no- Eddie...." He sobbed softly, his hands clenching and his body rocking back and forth. "Eddie... my Eddie." He whispered softly into his hands, where no one could see him speak, or hear him at all.

The Losers then collectively decided to pile into cars and ride up to the river where the sewers met. But then again, they thought Richie wouldn’t be able to go on his own. He was too... too damn hurt. So they all piled into Mike’s truck, Richie wrapped in a towel stained with his blood and tears, laying down in the pickup’s back.

The river smelled of hot flesh and some disgusting mix of blood, dirt, and something the Losers couldn’t quite place. Rotted, disheveled corpses bumped into each other as they drifted down the filthy stream. Ben, Beverly, Mike, and Bill scrambled out, walking over to the water and crouching down on the riverbed. Richie followed behind, walking with a slow, sad shuffle.

“Do you guys remember how when he broke his arm, that bitchy chick from the pharmacy signed his cast- and she wrote loser, so he changed it to lover?” Bill smiled, reminiscing quietly.

“Fuck, yeah! Remember how he used to be such a stickler for the rules? I mean, that didn’t change much, but… yeah.” Bev laughed quietly. “When we hung around the bunker, he used to yell at us if we took too long in the hammock.” She grinned.

“I remember when Bowers and his gang tried to cut me, y' know? He freaked out so bad. And then you guys patched me up and he almost vomited ’cause he thought it was so gross?” Ben smiled, his hands crossed over his lap. Bev took one and held it in her own, leaning into his shoulder.

“Richie? What was your favorite Eddie memory?” Bev asked quietly, looking over at him. “Oh god, Richie-”

He was bundled on a rock, his hands hovering over his eyes as soft sniffles escaped from his figure. Tears dripped onto the stone below him, staining his shirt.

He knew what his favorite memory was. When they’d kissed that one summer. On the bridge. Had Eddie even remembered that? Remembered how hard they had pined and finally, they had gotten together?

_Eddie had followed him like a little fucking puppy then. Eddie saw him at the arcade and followed him into the park one day; they’d sat on the bench in silence, their hands close but not touching. For fear of what would happen if someone saw. _

_“Hey, come on. I wanna take you somewhere.” Eddie smiled softly, his cheeks warm and his ears reddening. _

_“What-?” Richie looked down at him, cocking his head cautiously. “I wanna show you a spot, dumbass. C'mon.” _

_So they grabbed their bikes and Richie followed Eddie for a few miles, quiet, his hands shaking on the bars. Did he know? Was he gonna freak out? Was he gonna- gonna leave him stranded? “Here.” Eddie pointed at a fence lining the highway, covered in signatures and heavy scents of cigarettes and blood, slightly masked by the pine smell from the forest around them._

_ “Whoa.” So Eddie was gonna push him off a bridge for being a faggot. Fitting, deserving. Shit. “Nice bridge.” _

_Eddie had smiled and laughed, sitting down comfortably his bike seat and leaning over onto the bars, his cast dangling over the side. “Yeah. I think it’s where they took Ben. When they cut him. But it’s also a, uh, spot to hang out. With people you care about.” _

_Richie looked at him in shock. Eddie... cared about him? Like... how? “So- wh-what did you wanna show me?” Richie chokes out, his eyes on the ground. _

_Eddie gets off his bike, pushing the kickstand down and going over to the worn wood. “That’s my handwriting.” Carved into the wood is a small, tiny heart with a letter on it. ‘R,’ it reads. “It’s for you.” _

_“R? For Richie-?” He asked stupidly. Eddie nodded. “Why?” Richie cocked his head. _

_“Cause, uh- cause I like you.” Eddie stammered quietly, nervous and blushing. _

_Richie fell off his bike, shocked. He scrambled back up, pulling down his shirt and wiping the dirt off himself._

_ “What?” Eddie gulped. “I like you. I know it’s weird and I don’t wanna fuck up-“ Eddie wasn’t able to finish, as Richie ran to him and wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him intensely on the lips and cupping his cheeks. Eddies eyes widened and his face grew red. He kissed back, his lips soft and chapped against Richie’s. “Fuck, Rich.” He murmured, his eyes fluttering. _

_Richie was still in disbelief over the fact that Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was- that he liked him. That Eddie liked him, out of all fucking people. Why did he think this was so damn special? People fell in love every day with the most random people. Cashiers, waitresses, famous people.. why was it’s so shocking that Eddie liked him? Maybe it was how out of his league Eddie had been. He was so perfect- so smart and cute and... everything Richie wasn’t. Dammit._

_ Eddie broke away from the kiss slowly, one hand pressed against Richie’s chest, the other tangled in his perfect, gorgeous black curls. “Does this-“ _

_“Does it what?” Richie asked quietly, his expression practically blank._

_ “Does this mean we’re dating?” Eddie questioned, his voice soft and curious. _

_Richie gave him a small smile. "Wo-would you be, uh, willing to date me?"_

_Eddie nods enthusiastically. "Yes!"_

_Richie nearly fucking jumped for joy. "Does- does that mean you'll kiss me again?" _

_Eddie nodded and gulped. Richie smirked and resumed his earlier position, but moving Eddie onto the rock bridge, pressing him into the wall softly and combing his hands through his hair, nearly gasping for air._

_Richie knew then that killer clown or not, this was gonna be the best summer ever._

It had been a fucking perfect occasion. Warm and full of affection and intense emotion. He probably wouldn’t admit it, but that was the best first kiss he could ever ask for... and Eddie was the best boyfriend he could ask for, too. Richie hadn't dated anyone since- well, basically after he left Derry for college. Of course, there had been some nice blowjobs and one-night stands since high school. But nothing... nothing as good as Eddie had been. 

Bev goes over to him and asks him very quietly. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She looked him in the eyes, with the intensity only she had ever made Richie feel- something not exactly anger or disappointment or sadness... but something like a mix of the three, intense and emotional.

Richie looks up at her and sighs to himself, wiping his eyes and cheek. “I loved him, Bev. Did you know that?” He asks quietly, his head falling back down to face the dirt. His eyes blurred with the tears forming in his ducts, hollow and upset.

Bev smiled sadly and nodded downwards to him. “Rich, we all loved-“ She starts to console him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Richie pushes her away, not angrily, but with a heavy force and... was that fear he felt?

He shakes his head cautiously and looks upward, interrupting her. “No, Beverly. I was _in_ love with him. I loved him.” He frowns, biting his lip and fighting a fountain of tears building up inside him. "I'm fucking gay." His head throbbed with another dumb feeling he couldn't quite place. God, shit, fuck. What're the losers all gonna think of him now? He, Richie fucking Trashmouth Tozier, connoisseur of your mom jokes and bad sex puns, was gay. 

Ben, Bill, Mike, and Beverly all stare at him, shocked. How the hell did someone who teased Eddie so much love him? And Eddie? Of all of them, Richie was in love with Eddie? Richie couldn't even be gay! All his jokes for his shows were about girls. Oh, fuck. He said he hadn't written his material, in the Chinese restaurant- hadn't he? It was all more of a joke- was it an act or something?Fuck.

Richie looks around and thinks that he senses judgment creeping into their faces. “I- I should go.” He stammers, his eyes pouring tears now, his face reddening ever so slightly and his nose burning.

“FuCK!” Richie yells to himself once he gets into his dusty sports car, pounding his fist on the wheel. "Why am I so fucking dumb? Nothing's ever gonna change for me. I'm still a depressed loser. I'm not even fucking funny." He scoffs, wiping his eyes. "Eddie doesn't even- didn't even remember how much I loved him." He grumbles and pulls out of the lot so he can start driving to the bridge. 

He drives the busy roads to the interstate, eventually riding off and cruising down a forest-lined road, playing his playlist he'd hoped to show to Eddie eventually. The tears eventually came to a stop, and with them went the flashes of his memories that kept popping up in his head. Richie pulled over near a familiar fence and a cobblestone bridge with memories of dangling feet, first kisses, and... more than that. He knew the feeling of the rough concrete against his wrists and hips, hands tangled in his hair and dipping into his waistband. 

Richie slowly meandered over to a familiar signature and a smaller one halfway down from it. He ran his fingers over the scratchy marks, buried into the wood. He sighed, fresh tears splattering on the pavement. "Why me?" He asks himself, nearly silent. His hands run through his curls, just like Eddie used to do. "Why did this happen to him? Why can't I just be here with you instead of alone? Why couldn't I have died?" He sobs softly. "FUCK ME!" 

"You dumb motherfucker," He hears a familiar, smooth voice chime in behind him. "Do you actually think you're gonna get fucked by asking for it like that? I mean, I know you and your cougar girls are pretty kinky, but shoutings weird, even for you."

Richie gasps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did y'all like that 'cliff hanger'? It's nothing compared to what's gonna happen soon, so get buckled in. 
> 
> Leave me some comments below because I'm starved for affection!!


	2. just let me cry a little bit longer, i ain't gon' smile if i don't want to (chapter two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie- he was dead. Richie didn't wanna say he was, but Richie knew he was. 
> 
> Why in fucks sake was he here now, a wound in his stomach and blood on his shoes. 
> 
> Why?
> 
> chapter title from "rose-colored boy" by paramore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy guys! thank you again for reading this, holy shit! i'm happy y'all liked the first chapter, and i hope you like this next one just as much! <3 <3 <3

“Well shit Rich, you got two things wrong there- My mom's name is Sonia, and it don’t start with an E. I dunno why you’d think it does.” Eddie stepped out from under the cobblestone bridge, his hand pressed to his stomach.

“Eddie? What- how did- shit, Eddie!”  
Richie runs at him and hugs him as hard as he can. “I thought- we thought- you were dead! We lost you!” Tears are streaming full force down both of their faces now, and Richie was practically ugly crying.

Richie looked at him carefully, his lip trembling. "I-I thought that _I_ had lost you." He choked out the words in a thick croaky voice that wasn't really his. It was sad Richie's voice. Scared Richie's voice. Hurt Richie's voice. "God, I'm stammering so hard, I p-probably sound like Bill, h-huh?" He laughs shakily, trying to mask the obvious pain and fear in his voice. 

Richie clears his throat and bites his tongue, a nervous tic he's had for as long as he can remember. His cheek puffs out softly and he sighs. "S-so what happened? How- how the hell are you still alive? I mean, Eds, I watched you _die_with my own two damn eyes." He sits on the wood, the feel of it still comfortable and homey even after all these years. "What happened?"

Eddie sits next to him, a bit too close to just be friendly- whether Richie could tell or not, he wasn't sure. "I uh, I don't know. I woke up on the curb in front of Neibolt and I-" He gulps quietly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I woke up and I was bleeding fuckin' hard, man, and there-" He shoots straight up, his eyes full of fear. "D-did we get him?" He questions, his voice trembling. 

Richie looks up at him and nods sharply. He realizes then what's looked so different about Eddie- he looks _tired_. 

The bags under his eyes are prominent, and worry lines lining his jaw and forehead make him look even more exhausted. There are frown lines too, accompanying the not quite emotionless purse of his lips. His clothes don't fit right- they hang around his waist, like a child wearing an adult's clothes. The way his gray button-up sagged around his ribs, his jeans hung off his legs- he looked gaunt. Like a fuckin' ghost or something.

His eyes have lost their usual spark and look almost dead, like there had been a fire in them that died out. Richie had never seen Eddie look like this before, and he was so angry with that damn clown that he had to now.

Richie looked back to Eddie, meeting his gaze. “You’re exhausted. And you’ve lost weight since we got here.” He blurts, his face growing concerned. 

Eddie looks up at him and sighs. “Me and Myra are getting a divorce. I- I think I’m gay. All this shit with that dumb fucking clown, combined with that... I’m not my best.” He rests his chin in his hands, leaning against his knees. “I don’t mean to just fuckin’ drop this on you, sorry.”

Richie’s jaw nearly drops. “N-no, you’re totally fine. What made- how did you realize you were-?” His brain is screaming in celebration, throwing a ‘HOLY SHIT EDDIE IS GAY!!!!1!!!11!!!’ party.

Eddie shrugs. “I guess I realized, like, I just wasn’t into her. I think I only married a woman ‘cause of my mom impressing the ‘gay=AIDS, AIDS=sick and dirty, sick and dirty=death’ archetype in my head, so I felt.. kind of repulsed about liking guys for so long that I just made myself believe I was straight.” He laughs quietly, his tone somber. “Guess that sounds kinda dumb, huh?”

Richie shakes his head. “No way, man!” He takes a breath and looks at Eddie. “Listen. Y’know how I don’t write my own material?” Eddie nods and Richie continues, his voice low. “It’s cause I’m gay too. I decided that instead of coming out to the world, I’d make shitty your mom jokes to a crowd that barely thinks I’m actually funny.” Richie laughs softly.

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly. “I knew- I uh, I mean- Myra never let me watch your stuff on Netflix and shit, right? So I had to watch it on my phone, but damn, I knew there was something different.” He smirks softly.

Richie turns towards his car, fiddling with his thumbs. “Hey- wanna grab a bite at that old Mexican joint we used to go to and just... shit, I guess talk?”

Eddie smiles and nods, taking Richie’s hand carefully and pulling him up from the bench, walking to the car and clamoring in.

——————————————

“-so then, John says that he and Anna showed up at home and Petunia had torn apart their entire fucking carpet! There’s shreds of it everywhere and there’s- shit, he’s a funny guy.” Richie concludes, smiling into his chicken enchilada.

Eddie bursts out laughing, smiling widely and shaking his head. “Damn. That dude is crazy.”

Richie nods and chuckles softly. “I know! That fucker’s insane.” He takes another bite of his food and taps his fork against the edge of the table, his foot thumping out a beat under his chair. He hums the tune of “Lovesong” under his breath, completely forgetting everything around him.

He realizes what he’s doing and blushes heavily. “S-sorry. Didn’t mean to-“ He stammers. 

Eddie shakes his head and looks at Richie carefully. “Hey, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it.” Eddie’s eyes light up and he bites his lip. “Shit, we should tell everyone I’m alive, shouldn’t we?”

Richie’s eyes widen so big they look like mini saucers. “Holy- yes, yes we should. I’ll call Bill-“ He fumbles for his pocket and pulls out his phone, dialing in the number and putting it to his ear.

_“H-Hello? Richie?” _Bill’s voice comes out of the speaker, tinny and cold sounding.

”Yeah, Bill! It’s me. Look, you’ll never believe what happened. Guess who’s here?” Richie grins, giving Eddie a thumbs up.

_“G-guess who’s where, Rich? W-where the fuck are you?” _Bill sighs and Richie can practically hear him grinding his teeth.

”I’m at Pedro’s- Eds is alive, Bill! He’s here with me right now!” Richie blurts, sounding like a six year old.

_”What?! What the f-fuck is- how d-did-“ _Bill sounds confused, his tone questioning.

”I know, it’s crazy, but it’s really him, Billiam.” Richie grins widely.

_”I told you not to c-call me that, R-Richie- just... __Stay where you are. We’ll b-be there in half a-an hour.” _Bill hangs up and Richie slides his phone back in his pocket.

”Soooo...” Eddie looks at him curiously.

Richie’s heart starts pounding in his chest. God, those fuckin’ puppy dog eyes would be the death of him. “They’ll be here in thirty.” He smiles.

Eddie nods. “Then... we should probably get more chips, huh?” He flags down a waitress and orders more, turning back to Richie. 

Richie drums his fingers against his thighs and folds his hands on his legs. “Hey, Eds? How did you know you were gay, not just unattracted to Myra?” He asks softly.

Eddie blushes and looks down at his plate. “Well uh- I’ve always kinda liked guys, and never felt anything really towards girls I guess. Y'know?”

Richie nods. “Yeah.” He gulps and bites his cheek. “D-do you remember us?” He chokes out, the words small. 

“I-..” Eddie licks his lips and closes his eyes. Shit. “Yeah.”

Richie screams internally and bites his tongue. “Then I’ve gotta tell you- I know this could- it could mess up a lot of things. But I’ve gotta tell you just in case.. cause I thought you’d died and I didn’t get to tell you and-“ 

Eddie looks at him, his cheeks pink. “Just say what’s on your mind, Richie. Whatever it is, it won’t be too bad. We can make it through anything.”

Richie nodded. ‘That’s the fucking problem- if I tell you, this won’t be we anymore,’ he yells in his head. 

“I’m still.. I-I’m still in love with you.”

”I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, what do you all think of the new cliffhanger? 👀👀
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave some kudos and comments if you did!


	3. don't let 'er get the best of me, buddy- don’t ever let me start feelin’ lonely (chapter three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk about their feelings, for once, which is a nice change up for Eddie. He appreciates it.
> 
> I mean, any kind of emotion, especially from Richie (who actually laughed at him when he first told him I love you) was good, in Eddie’s opinion.
> 
> Then the other Losers show up, and it’s a shit show of tears.
> 
> chapter title from "buddy" by willie nelson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy! how are y’all doin? I know this update is a little bit early, but I was psyched about writing this. ^_^
> 
> I hope you guys like what I’ve done, and hopefully I haven’t dashed your dreams.

“I’m in love with you.”

Eddie gulped and spat the words out- “I know.”

Richie’s breath caught in his throat and he nearly choked on his enchilada. “You do? I thought- did you remember what we used to-?” He sputtered, his brain scrambled.

Eddie nods sharply, fiddling with his jacket sleeve. “The carving. Mine, at least. And prom night. I just... I assumed you didn’t remember any of it. Y’know? I don’t get why I thought that- I guess I was just scared you’d be mad at me or say I was wrong.” He laughs bitterly.

Richie’s heart nearly breaks then and there. He offers his hand under the table and Eddie takes it.

The years seemingly fall away until they nearly feel like kids again, even if it’s just for now. Eddie seems a little less tired and Richie seems a little less worried than usual- it’s good.

Eddie looks back and bites his lip, tears dropping onto his jeans. “I’m so fuckin’ scared Rich.” He blurts out, his voice low and unsteady. In this moment he seems like he’s still a little kid. Too young and innocent for what he’s about to do- what he has done. Like this is one giant fucking cruel joke that life has decided to make- pulling the wool over their eyes and making them scared, terrified even, of what might come next for them.

Richie’s breath grows lighter with each passing second- he feels at ease. Like this is right. Like it’s what he was made to do.  
“It’s alright, Eduardo. Breathe. Four in, three hold, two out, one hold.” He recites softly, the words cool and familiar on his tongue, like he’s done this a million times before.

Eddie eventually relaxes a bit, his grip lessening and his teeth unclenching.  
His forehead is still scrunched up in worry, but when isn’t it? He sighs and holds his chin in his free hand, his mouth pursed into a slight frown. “I fucked up, didn’t I?” He asks out of the blue.

Richie looks up at him and cocks his head. “Whatcha mean, Eds?” He questions, biting back words he doesn’t need to say.

Eddie lets his guard down, his tone like the scared thirteen year old in the sewers that Richie really remembers- the one who yelled at that clown fucker; the one who used to buy out the entire goddamn pharmacy; the one he used to giggle with, laying in his bed at three in the morning, listening to the Smiths and feeling the soft skin on top of his stomach, lips on his, hair brushing his forehead, and god, Eddie, we have to be so quiet-  
The short, asthmatic boy who stole his heart and tore it in two when he gave it back.

“I messed up. With.. it.” Eddie chimes softly. “I was gonna mess all of you up for life and it could’ve survived cause of my stupidity and-“ Eddie stops for a minute, catching his breath as he sits.

Richie’s mouth drops slightly, horrified. He squeezes Eddie’s hand softly, biting his lip tenderly. “Eddie, you didn’t-“

Eddie looks down into his plate, like it’s the most disappointing thing he’s ever seen and chokes out the words, his face hot. “You’re lying, Richie. I may be clueless sometimes but I’m not fucking stupid. A-and I know you weren’t just at the bridge for me. I know it. I know why.” Tears flow down from his eyes and drip down his chin, leaving a shining trail behind them.

“Oh god, Eddie, no!” Richie looks at him, astounded. “C-can I sit next to you?” He asks softly. “Just while we talk. If that’s okay.”

Eddie nods and Richie gets up, scooting in next to him. “Eddie, look at me. You’re amazing and fucking gorgeous- breath taking and brave and so smart and so sweet and so goddamn amazing, Eds.” He stammers. “You know the speech I gave in the fuckin’ crackhouse? I meant all of it. Okay? Don’t tell yourself shit like that ever again or I’ll personally beat the tar out of you.” Richie threatens, smirking.

Eddie laughs softly, his voice crackly and warm. “Yeah, okay. Try it. See what happens.” He smiles.

They sit in silence for a second, before Eddie asks a question- “What were you gonna do at the bridge? I mean- I think I know. But I wanna know if I’m right.”

Richie’s face darkens and he leans into Eddie’s shoulder. “This okay?” He murmurs. Eddie nods quickly, swallowing thickly.

Richie sighs and starts in; “I did most of what I planned. I was gonna carve a note, y’know? Something new. And carve our initials back in.” He pauses, going over the best way to phrase his next words. “And I’m pretty sure I was gonna jump.” He decides. “Everyone else has someone they’re gonna live for. Bill has Audra, Ben has Bev and vice versa- and when Stan gets out, he and his wife and Mike are all gonna move to Florida. Be a happy family.” He explains.

“I never really had anyone after Derry. I honestly don’t even know why I left at all. I didn’t have anyone or anything to really hang onto. But there was this.. this niggling thought in my brain that there had been someone. That I had to find him again. Like- every time I caught a glimpse of red shorts, or an inhaler, or an arm cast, or- just anything that was like you that summer. And I had that one thing keeping me going. But I still found it rough a lot.”

“You don’t know how many times my assistant had to run up a dozen goddamn flights of stairs to stop me from making a choice I wouldn’t even live to regret. He’s a good guy. Got me on Lexapro or whatever. And got me a good therapist.”

“Then when I came to Derry and all my thoughts recollected- you, the Losers- there was something I really really wanted to survive for. Cause I knew that even if we weren’t all together here, if we survived- we would stick together. But everyone’s leaving again. Going somewhere else. And I thought... I thought that I had lost you, yeah? And if you wouldn’t be around, and they wouldn’t either- I’d just stay a depressed fucking... husk of a man. And I wouldn’t wanna live like that. So I decided I wouldn’t.” He finishes, his voice low.

Eddie looks at him in shock, his arms wrapping around Richie’s neck. “Oh, Rich... I’m so sorry. That would never happen- you’re family. We’d never leave you behind.” Tears stain Eddie’s shirt and he knows they’re not his. He chews his lip, his chin resting on Richie’s shoulder as he rubs his back. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Breathe.” Eddie coos softly, his words as comforting as they can be.

Richie sniffs and wipes his eyes with his knuckles. “I’m sorry- I don’t mean to get emotional on you. It’s not like me.” Richie sighs.

Eddie’s mouth turns up at the corners and he nods. “Believe me, I know. First time I told you I was in love with you, you punched me in the shoulder and told me to get over you quick cause you weren’t worth it.” Eddie reminisces, smiling.

Richie laughs softly and pulls away from Eddie, feeling like he’s overstayed his welcome. Eddie’s face drops slightly but he covers it up with a sloppy grin. He takes Richie’s hand again and squeezes it once. “Maybe hand squeezes can be our always,” He jokes, grinning at Richie.

Richie laughs, his voice finally back to his regular octave. “Y’don’t say,” He says, mimicking a fake Southern Belle-ish accent. “Why, that’s quite marvelous!”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but even he has to admit to himself that sometimes Richie’s voices are kind of funny- mostly this one, but still. He rubs the back of his neck. “So... where do we take it from here? I mean- we both remember dating back then and it’s clear we still... uh, love each other.”

Richie nods and looks up at the fluorescent lighting in the restaurant. “Well, fuck, I didn’t think this through until now, to be honest. I don’t really know.” He blushes lightly and smirks dorkily. “I guess.. you, uh- where do you live now?”

Eddie looks at him curiously. “New York City- me and Myra have- had an apartment together. I made her move out.”  
Eddie shrugs.

Richie takes a sip of his drink and feels his ears get hot. “Do.. do you wanna move in with me? You can come live in LA with me?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to nearly hack up a lung out of shock. “Me- move in with you?” He stutters, his eyes wide.

Richie nods, blushing softly. “Yeah. I mean, I can afford it for sure. And I’ve got room in my apartment.” He says, smiling.

Eddie nods eagerly. “I’d- yes! I’d love to.”  
He smiles softly, his eyes lightening a bit.

Richie starts to say something else when the rest of the Losers run in, yelling “EDDIE!” at the top of their lungs and practically dog piling on him.

“We th-thought you were dead, man! What h-happened?” Bill asks, smiling.

Eddie shrugs and explains what he can. A waitress comes up and takes the others orders, only glancing at their bloodied clothes for a minute before turning away to prep their food.

Eddie finishes up and looks down. “Do we have to keep talking about it? I mean, it’s all over and I just.. don’t wanna think about that fucker.” He bites his cheek and looks up at everyone, his eyes back to the dull tone they had before.

The Losers all nod understandingly and settle into their respective seats- Ben and Bev next to each other and Mike and Bill with the other as well. 

Richie looks nervous and a bit upset. “I’m uh- gonna go have a cigarette. I’ll be back in a minute.” Without another word he shot out of his seat and stumbled to the door, stepping outside and leaning his head against the cool brick wall. 

Everyone looked at Eddie weirdly, their faces masks of confusion and curiousty. Eddie felt sweat trickle down his forehead and he smiled awkwardly. “I uh- I’ll go talk to him, see what’s up.” He says quietly, getting up and following.

Richie raises his head when he hears the bell over the door jingle and Eddie follows soon after. “What’s going on, man?” He asks softly, peering at Richie nervously. 

Richie takes a drag on his cigarette and sighs. “It’s fucking dumb. I- I wanna kiss you really bad but I don’t want-“

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Eddie practically slams him into the wall, his arms riding up Richie’s shirt- one snaking up his neck and nestling into his hair, the other wrapped around his hips.

Richie’s eyes widen and then close as he presses his lips back with force, tasting the cherry chapstick on Eddie’s lips as he bites them ever so tenderly. He feels bad that his breath probably tastes like tobacco and the tic-tacs he’d swallowed quickly after getting outside, but goddamn it if he was gonna let that ruin a make out session with Eddie fucking Kaspbrak- the boy he’s been in love with since he was thirteen years old.

It’s not your average, perfect, star-crossed lovers kissing scene- both of them still smell like sewers and have blood staining their faces and clothes, but they wouldn’t trade this for the fucking world. This was them. And that wasn’t gonna change.

Now all they had to do was explain all this shit to the other Losers. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ajsjjsks so y’all know- that bit with richie doing his voices (although it may sound kind of out of character and seem weird in that paragraph) I swear it’s not supposed to be- I hc that he does bits (voices, jokes, etc) when he doesn’t know what to say, or he’s nervous.
> 
> sooooo then! opinions? what do you thinks gonna happen next? 
> 
> what are you guys doing this weekend? I’m gonna go see Rocky Horror tomorrow and then my birthdays on Sunday! :)
> 
> have a good week, I’ll see you all in the next chapter! :)))))


	4. everything stays, right where you left it, everything stays, but it still changes (chapter four)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys figure themselves out- first the good stuff.  
Telling the Losers (who, spoiler alert- are very supportive.)  
Moving in.  
Getting a dog.  
Settling in and figuring out the exact angle their hands lock together in.
> 
> But they also figure out the bad.  
The screams at night, surrounded by bad dreams.  
The crying and sweating.  
The shivers down their spines, the uncontrollable shaking.  
The nervous looks and gritted teeth.
> 
> Both the good things and the bad.
> 
> chapter title from "everything stays" performed by olivia olson

They figure themselves out. Figure out what they wanna do, who they wanna be.

They tell the others the truth. Bev and Bill aren’t surprised at all- they’d apparently seen Eddie and Richie in the bunker.

Ben doesn’t seem too shocked either, but he is overly ecstatic for them.  
“If someone tries to be a dick to either of you about who you are, I’ve got your back.” He had said, his eyes bright.

Mike is the only one out of the Losers to really seem surprised by their status- which everyone but him finds _hilarious_.  
_“Mike, you couldn’t tell?!”_ They’d laughed- but it had been good hearted. They loved Mike too, just like they loved the other Losers. He was just so smart, they’d been shocked.

And then they told Stan, who’s reply was a simple, “Fuckin’ finally!” and then he had hung up the phone.  
I mean, it was fair that he had known- Richie had made rants about Eddie that were a little too... well, Stan hadn’t been able to put a name to the feeling at the time, but now he knew: it was shameless fucking _pining_ in Richie’s voice. So yeah, you could guess he'd been pretty happy for his best friend.

So the two had gotten that sorted. And everyone had left soon after that, over the span of a week- Bill, Bev and Ben, and then even Mike had packed up and headed to Florida to be with Stan and Pat.

And then, Richie and Eddie realized- they were the last ones left in Derry. They were still at the townhouse, but Mike had offered for them to stay in the library if they’d wished.

The Losers had gone to the library as a full group before leaving- taking out Bowers' body and completing some sort of viking-esque funeral in the wood, where they set his body aflame in a large bonfire (so there was no evidence), throwing his pocketknife into the dying flames as the embers died down- a final tribute of sorts. Bowers sure didn't deserve that type of funeral, but it was the best they could do, and it seemed to fit him. And Richie was pleased with the slight-shittiness of the whole ordeal, cause he'd be the last to admit any positive feelings toward Bowers.

After all that shit was over, Eddie and Richie eventually decided, after cleaning up what little evidence was left of their visit to Derry, that they would leave. So they packed up their bags, piled them into Richie's convertible, and headed back to LA. Eddie had settled easily into Richie's penthouse, with only a couple hitches in the process.

First off- Eddie had insisted on sleeping on the couch, which Richie would not allow.

_"I'm the guest in your house, Richie! I'm not gonna steal your bed!" Eddie had argued, his face hot._

_"'S not stealing, Eds. I want you there. I can sleep on the couch- I end up doin' it most nights anyways." Richie had laughed, his voice soft and goofy._

_Eddie sighed. "No way, dickwad. It's way too big for me anyway, I'd feel like a fuckin' little kid or something." He grumbled._

_Richie smiled even wider and shook his head. "Then we'll just share it." And that was that._

So now Eddie slept in Richie's bed. Honestly, it was a little stupid that they'd argued about it- they were dating now, right? And they shared an apartment. What was so bad about sharing a bed?

They'd figured that one out soon enough:

Nightmares.

Since Derry, Richie had started having vivid, bloody, make-you-wake-up-crying-and-screaming-for-your-life type dreams that left him pale as a sheet and shaking like a god damn leaf.

On more than one occasion within the first week that they had lived together, Eddie had been woken up by heart-stopping screeches coming from Richie's side of the bed.

"Richie? Richie? God- Richie fucking talk to me you-" Eddie had shaken him, tilting his face to see if Richie was even fucking _alive_, cause Eddie could swear that Richie sounded like he’d been murdered right there, his arms twitching like he was having a seizure on the spot.

Richie’s eyes grew wide open and he shot up in the bed, yelling for Eddie, tears streaming down his face hurriedly. “E-Eds!” He exclaimed, turning to Eddie and holding onto him, hiccuping and sobbing like a kid.

Eddie instinctively stiffened at the sudden weight around him, but he softened cause fuck, it was Richie- and Eddie hugged him back, running his hand up Richie’s shirt and rubbing small circles around his shoulders. “Hey, hey- calm down, it’s okay. Breathe. What-“ He paused for a moment, deciding not to ask what had happened.

After a while, Richie pulled away, his shoulders still shaking. “Sorry. Fuck.” He muttered, his voice groggy and pained. His face was slick with tears and he wiped them on his arm.

Eddie shook his head. “No, Rich- god, don’t be upset, it’s okay. What happened?” Eddie asked, his frown prominent. He leaned back against the bare bedpost, and Richie curls up next to him, his head pressed against Eddie’s thigh.

“I thought I was down in the Barrens and you.. I was still in the deadlights. And my chest closed up and I couldn’t fucking breathe and I just..” Richie gasped out, his voice rough. “It hurt. And then I f-fell out like I did last time and I saw you, and it got you, and it was like I was glued to the spot. And I couldn’t do anything. And that- it... fucking hurt.” Richie felt his ears reddening as he buried his face into Eddie’s stomach.

Eddie ran his hands through Richie’s hair and kissed his forehead. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m okay. You’re all right.” Eddie whispered softly, his voice warm. “Don’t worry, Richie. We’re all okay, you don’t need to be scared.”

Richie nodded and feels his face grow hot as Eddie kisses it. He knows they’ve been, well, dating for a while now, but he still feels butterflies in his stomach, and he feels like a kid again. “Thanks Eds. ‘M sorry, it’s just-“ He rolls back over and sits up, nestling back into Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie’s heartbeat thumps rhythmically, like birds wings. Eddie wraps his arms around Richie, resting his head against the wall. Richie closes his eyes and leans into his embrace, Eddie’s heartbeat calming him down and rocking him to sleep.

Eddie turns down to start talking to Richie, see if he maybe wants to watch a movie or something until he gets tired again, but he’s already fast asleep. He smiles to himself and props up a pillow behind his head, falling back into a deep sleep, the man he loves wrapped in his arms.

In that moment, Eddie doesn’t ever wanna be anywhere else- he would stay in this spot forever.

Richie isn’t the only one to have nightmares, though. Eddie has some too. Not as bad as Richie’s ones about the deadlights, but still awful nightmares. 

They’re always the same scenarios, and it’s pretty simple- he’s dead. Back in that hell hole of a sewer, seeing his body collapse and watching Richie sob over him, yelling and going fucking crazy. Eddie’s throat is pounding with screams, and he wants to shout that it’s okay, he’s right here, he’s not gone, but the words don’t come out.

After that, Eddie starts to get dizzy and everything starts to get blurry, a bright white light flashing at him, and he watches it all over again, from when he dies until the light blinks out- then it circles back once more, over and over until whatever sick fuck designing his dreams decides that they’re done.

Eddie always wakes up in a cold sweat, shaking and breathing heavy. He gets up, scrambling around the room, trying to find his inhaler. Richie wakes up then, the sheets rustling as he gets up too. “What’s wrong?” He asks, putting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder blade and looking down into his eyes.

“Bad dream. I died.” He nearly throws up on the spot, his stomach churning as the images from his nightmares play like a slideshow in his head. Richie furrows his eyebrows and frowns, walking over to the door to pull the light switch. He scans the floor and finds Eddie’s inhaler nestled in the side of his backpack. He hands it to Eddie and takes his hand, pulling him back over to the bed.

They sit down, both of them quiet. The silence between them is only muffled by the metallic clicks of Eddie’s inhaler, soft and rhythmic.

“Same one from last last week?” Richie asks quietly, pulling a loose thread from his Power Rangers boxers. Eddie nods and takes a final breath, setting down his inhaler. 

“Yeah. It just feels like.. worse each time. Cause it’s always the same and it just  never fucking stops , and I don’t- I can’t get to you. And I can’t tell you. And I just watch you helplessly until the light flashes again and then it repeats.” Eddie word vomits, propping up his head in his hands.

Richie’s face drops and he moves closer to Eddie, resting his head on the top of his back. “I’m sorry. What can I do?” He asks quietly, biting his bottom lip. Eddie shakes his head.

“Nothing. Just.. stay with me-?” Eddie says nervously, feeling weirdly nervous. Why was he fucking  nervous ? There wasn’t any reason to be- Eddie was just being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

As if he could read Eddie’s mind, Richie laid a hand on Eddie’s thigh, threading his fingers along the soft fabric of Eddie’s cotton shorts . “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” He answers softly. “‘M right here, Eds.”

Eddie nods, his rapid breathing starting to slow. “I just- why was I so fucking stupid, Richie?” He sobs softly, pressing the bottoms of his palms to his eyes and tapping his fingers along his hairline. “I- nearly died and then I actually  did and it was so fucking scary, Richie-“ 

Richie takes Eddie’s face and turns it towards him, a grim expression on his face. “No. You did everything right Eddie, and what happened wasn’t your fault. If you hadn’t done that, I’d  really  be dead.” He looks into Eddie’s eyes, his hands falling off Eddie’s jaw. “Don’t blame yourself.” He finishes, looking away once more.

Eddie nods, his eyes swelling up with tears. “I’m so fucking sorry, Richie.” He says quietly, biting his lip tensely. “I don’t get why I’m so- so afraid still. Y’get what I mean?” He asks.

Richie nods and frowns, wrapping his lanky arms around Eddie’s torso and rubbing his arm. “Fully. That- IT is gonna linger with us for a long time, Eds.” He doesn’t offer further explanation, but Eddie feels considerably better, just knowing someone gets how he feels. 

Eddie, in a moment of impulsivity, threads his hands in Richie’s hair, kissing him intensely. He moves backwards, now holding Richie’s chin in his hands. “Shit- I-“ He realizes that maybe kissing Richie then might’ve felt uncomfortable, and he starts to sweat nervously. “Richie- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Richie cuts him off with another kiss, turning more towards Eddie and running a hand up his shirt. He holds their foreheads together for a moment, and it gives him a warm feeling- like he’s on top of the world.

He doesn’t care if they both have bad breath, because it’s three in the goddamn morning and they’re both drenched in sweat- Eddie is here with him.

Richie has the man he loves in his arms. Maybe things aren’t gonna be fuckin’ perfect at any point in their future, but Richie will be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of what he has, while he has it. And he’s gonna love Eddie as much as he can, every step of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> askSJSJWJJS  
hi guys!! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I last updated! My mental health has been super shitty and I had most of this chapter typed out, but I couldn’t get the motivation to finish it until tonight. 
> 
> leave me some comments on what you enjoyed and what you hope happens, etc etc, cause I’m starting to feel repetitive,,,
> 
> thanks for reading, and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!


	5. but it takes someone to come around, to show you how (chapter five)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie doesn't fucking understand why he would want to let him go. Ever. 
> 
> Richie doesn't understand why Eddie is so fucking sensitive.
> 
> aka, the part where their pasts catch up to them sooner than they thought.
> 
> title from "tear in my heart" by twenty one pilots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys.
> 
> it's really been a while, huh? i'm sorry i've been inconsistent with my posting- it's not at all that i'm not interested in posting or that i'm not committed to the story- i swear i am and that i care about this story, but my mental health has been shit lately.
> 
> school, mental health, my illness and physical health, relationships and just responsibilities have been catching up to me more than ever and i haven't been in a place where i can write for a while. but, i'm finally there, and i think that this chapter is better than most i've recently done! 
> 
> i know i'm just rambling at this point, so without further adieu, here's the chapter!

Things got better. A lot better, compared to how they were. They learned how to console each other; learning the exact spots to place their hands on each other’s shaking figures, the exact words to avoid, and the ones to say, the actions needed, varying from nightmare to nightmare.

When they went to visit Audra and Bill at the studio a couple of months after everything settled, Bill had said that they seemed like the perfect couple- never fought, never yelled, never made pissed off faces or grumbled at each other. 

This wasn’t true, of course. Eddie and Richie bickered (usually jokingly), but they really did get into it sometimes. And that always ended up nastily. 

On one particular night in late November, Eddie and Richie had gotten into a spat over Richie’s new role on some Netflix comedy his manager had booked. It was gonna require a few weeks of filming time and would require Richie to have to go to San Francisco for a while, and Eddie didn’t want him to go. 

If Richie was being honest with himself, he didn’t really wanna be on that show to begin with, and he didn’t really like San Francisco that much anyway, so he probably was gonna turn down the offer- but seeing Eddie get so defensive and pouty got him riled up for some reason, and it made him just want to fuck with Eddie even more.

“Awwww, Spaghetti, I’m flattered that you’d miss me, but I’d only gonna be for a couple of weeks, y'know? If you’re that desperate for a good blow, though, I can call up a friend or lend you some pornos-“ Richie grins widely, only letting his smile falter when he sees Eddie’s dark, glowering expression.

“Shut it, Richie. You know I don’t like it when you pull that bullshit, dickwad.” Eddie growls, turning away from him and starting to straighten the couch. Richie’s face drops and he walks over to Eddie, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He knows he should stop, then and there. Just apologize, get it over with, and have Eddie back to how things were before- but he doesn’t. “Now, calm down, Eds, don’t wanna be irrational here-“ 

Eddie spins around and sticks his finger in Richie’s face. His eyes are ablaze, his cheeks flushed and his breathing harsh and heavy. He barks out four words- “Beep fucking beep, Richie.”

Richie steps backward, nearly tripping over the ottoman Eddie made him buy last week. Eddie never would’ve said that. They just didn’t go there- It wasn’t something he had ever said before. 

Richie scrambles over the ottoman and walks over to the door, pulling on his jacket and boots as quickly as he can. He tugs on his hat and scarf, then shoves his phone into his pocket, starting to turn towards the door.

Eddie steps towards him, his hand extended outwards. “Richie, look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that I-“ Richie looks back at him, his eyes filled with hurt. 

“Not now, Eds. I can’t. Gotta cool off.” Richie says quietly, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He takes the stairs down to the bottom floor and walks out the front door, cool air hitting him in the face.

He grumbles a string of swears under his breath and starts walking in the cool night. It’s colder than it usually is in L.A- he feels like he should’ve brought gloves or a heavier coat. He buries his hands in his pockets and shivers slightly. 

Richie thinks about going back, apologizing with an “I’m sorry, I took it too far, I was rude-“ but then he thinks about it more. Fuck that. He wasn’t at fault, Eddie should’ve been more open and supportive of his career, and he shouldn’t’ve said that. 

With that idea embedded in his brain, he trudges forward, ignoring people around him and focusing on the ground instead. He bumps into some broad-shouldered guy and turns to apologize. “Hey, shit, sorry man-“ He says, and the man looks up.

“Benny?” Richie says, ever so softly, low enough that Benny probably can’t even hear him. Benny rushes towards him and Richie stands, stiff as a board, as he enthusiastically hugs him.

“Richie! Oh man, it’s so good to see ya, things have been so crazy, I meant to call-“ Benny rambles on, and eventually he pulls away. “How’ve you been, man?” He says, grinning. Richie notices one of his teeth is now gold, and his smile is a bit yellow. He recoils slightly, but his face remains neutral. 

“Uh- okay, man, I uh-“ Richie starts, his face glowing pink from the cold and his nerves. “I gave it up, y’ know? Sobered up.” Richie still can imagine the cold metal of needles on his skin sometimes, feel the rush of endorphins and the shitty headaches. He shivers.

Benny frowns. “Richie Tozier, sobered up? Not something I ever expected to see.” He laughs softly, and his face seems to de-age like he’s still the goofy dumbass Richie would’ve (and had almost) died for a couple of years ago. “Wanna grab a drink, catch up?” Benny offers.

Richie thinks it over in his head. On one hand, it would be really good to talk to Benny, see how he’s doing- but on the other, if he came home drunk, he couldn’t imagine the shit he’d get from Eddie.

“Sure.” He says softly. “But just one drink.”  
Benny nods and assures him that’s fine, and soon enough they’ve gone to a bar nearby- Benny chatting away like it’s only been a couple of days since they last spoke, not years.

Richie listens to him, hearing story upon story about updates in the business, ex-partners and weird hookups, crazy shows, and bad deals. When Benny’s finally done, Richie looks at his watch and realizes they’ve already been at the bar for nearly an hour. 

“Ah, shit, Benny, I gotta go, man- it was nice talking to you, but I gotta get home to my- um.” He grabs his coat and pulls it back on as Benny stands up beside him. 

“Aw, come on, just one more!” Benny smiles. He rummages in his pocket and pulls out a small packet, slipping it in Richie’s hand. “Like old times.” He lowers his voice, his eyes glinting.

Richie drops the packet and steps backward, fumbling for his wallet. He places down a twenty on the counter and backs away quickly, waving sharply at him and scrambling out the door of the bar, rushing back to the apartment as fast as he can. 

He doesn’t understand why he let himself do those things. Before, at least. It had hurt like a bitch, and it was even worse when he quit. He'd been a goddamn junkie, addicted to whatever he could get his grimy hands-on at the time. Coke, heroin, molly, angel dust- anything at all. His life had been all syringes with dirty caps, red eyes, and ground-up teeth, bloody lips and beat up arms. Benny was his favorite person then, and looking back to that period now, Richie didn't know how he could even stand the guy. "What a fucking douchebag." He murmured under his breath, his teeth chattering from the cold. He rubbed his arms up and down hurriedly, freezing.

He messed up then, and he's apparently so fucking weak that he can't even talk about what happened, who he was. Can't tell his fucking shrink or assistant- and can't even tell his fucking _boyfriend_. God, what was wrong with him? He's such a fucking failure- an idiotic fucking faggot, as they'd said. Richie shook his head and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Shuddup." He muttered to himself. "'S not true. You're better now." A woman passing him on the street gave him a weird look, but Richie shot back a glare so fierce that she immediately turned away and kept walking. Richie decided to try and get away from his thoughts, and he continued towards the apartment.

He practically sprints to the building, only stopping when he hears rough breathing and a low whine in an alleyway. “H’lo? Someone there?” Richie asks softly, scanning around the alley until his eyes land on a small box, covered by what seems to be a wriggling blanket. He tears the blanket away, and a small labrador lays in the box, it’s ribbing shallow and its eyes shut. He puts a finger out to the puppy and it sniffs him, then licks him, it’s tail wagging slightly. Richie picks up the puppy and wraps him back in the blanket, tucking him into his jacket. “You’re comin’ home with me, little guy.” He grins. The puppy playfully licks his chin from inside the jacket and Richie laughs, wrapping his arms around his middle and tying his scarf around the puppy as well. 

Then he continues the trek home. He rummages in his pockets for something to give the pup and comes up empty-handed- he realizes he should get him food soon, and so he starts running even faster towards the building.

Back in the apartment, Eddie’s pacing across the floor, his anxiety growing with each passing minute. Richie stayed out kind of late when he got angry, but this was a record. He’d tried to call him a dozen times but each ring ended with a voicemail. He’d texted him repeatedly, but no response there either. Eventually, he calls Bev, sitting on the couch and letting himself break down. She’d know what to do. And even if she didn’t (which was highly unlikely) she would be able to console him. He dials her number into his phone, his fingers shaking.

“Eddie?” Bev answers, her voice groggy. He hears Ben on the other end, asking in a sleepy voice who’s on the phone. Of course- it’s early morning in New York. Fuck.

“Hey, shit, sorry, I forgot it’s early there, never mind-“ Eddie starts, biting his lip and taking his phone away from his ear. 

He hears Bev on the phone, telling him to pick back up, and finally, he does. “Eddie. What happened, doll?” She says quietly. Eddie can imagine how she’s sitting- Ben with his head in her lap, curled up in bed as she perches her arms into a sort of prayer-like stance.

Eddie lets out a sigh, feeling tears start to drip down his cheeks. “I-I got into an argument with Richie about his new show and he was joking with me and I got mad and I said beep beep and he stormed out and it’s been a long time now and I’m just scared, Bev!” He rants, pressing his palms into his forehead and rubbing the tears out of his eyes.

Bev listens to him, and nods (though he can’t see that. When he finally finishes, she speaks up. “Okay. First- breathe. 4 times 4 rule, right? Next- you’ve tried calling him and texting him, right?” She asks softly, wishing she was able to be there with Eddie.

Eddie gives her a tiny yes, explaining how many times he’s tried to contact Richie. She sighs and continues. “Okay. Well, there’s not much we can do right now. Give it a couple more hours- maybe til dinner time, and then you call again if he hasn’t gotten home, and we’ll find him. I swear. Okay?” Bev finishes.

Eddie starts to tell her that’s good and he’ll talk to her later, but Richie walks in the door right as the first word comes out of his mouth. Eddie quickly says, “Holy mOTHERFUCKING SHIT, he’s back, love you Bevvy, bye-“ and hangs up. He rushes over to Richie, kissing him roughly and hugging him close.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you ass- God, I’m so fucking sorry, Richie, I was a dickhead and I shouldn’t have said that and you have every right to be-“ He pauses his apology when he sees a small snout poke out from Richie’s jacket.

“Is- is that a dog?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

Richie nods sheepishly, taking the dog out of his jacket and pulling the jacket off. He hangs it up and picks the puppy back off the ground, cradling him like a baby. “I found him on my way home. He was shivering, and cold, and I know we gotta get him tested and shit, but I had to take him Eds, I-“

Eddie cuts him off. “Gimme the puppy, asshat. Startup a bath and I’ll make him something to eat- we’ve still got those leftover chicken bites from the other day, right?” Richie nods in surprise and starts heading to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water.

Eddie microwaves the chicken and pours it into a small bowl. He hand-feeds a few pieces to the puppy, then he lets him eat on his own, placing the dog and bowl on the floor. The puppy peers up at Eddie curiously, and Eddie points to the bowl. "Eat. Yummy." He says quietly, smiling and scratching its back. The dog still seems skeptic, but he slowly begins to eat. "Good boy," Eddie smiles, running his hand through the puppy's dark brown curls of fur. 

"He reminds me of- you know." 

Eddie jumps, startled by the voice. He looks and sees Richie, leaning on the door frame. Eddie bites his lip and stands up, walking over to Richie nervously. "Who?"

Richie looks down at the dog, pinching his forehead. "Stan." He says, quiet. The dog's finished eating now and lays on the floor, it's head on its paws. The puppy is staring upwards at Richie and Eddie, and has a somber, "I've only been here for five minutes but I can tell you two are so shitty at communicating your real feelings." expression. 

Both men laugh out loud, recognizing the look immediately. "Oh, shit, you're right." Eddie smiles softly, reminiscing. Eddie looks up and is met with a warm, sappy smile from Richie.

"Y'know what I'm thinkin'?" Richie grins mischievously, and Eddie nods, smiling back. A few days later, the Losers group chat has been spammed with pictures of their new son, decked out in a Trashmouth tour scarf, hat, and some black baby booties- all the photos labeled "Our little bitch boy! <3"

One of those nights, propped up in their beds (SJ has his bed- a little brown thing decorated with various red birds and leaves), Richie curls into bed with Eddie and holds him closer, letting himself breathe for the first time all day. He feels himself shudder a bit as he lays, and he shakes ever so slightly, his hands curled into fists around his shirt. Eddie pulls away and holds his chin, smiling at Richie. "What's up?" He asks, using his softest voice as he pulls the covers up around them, cuddling Richie closer.

Richie sighs and buries his head into Eddie's hair, smelling the strawberry shampoo he's used the last 30 years and the vanilla conditioner that's stuck with it the whole time. He smiles- some things really never change- but it quickly turns back into a stone-faced expression again. "Some, uh- some stupid trolls on my fuckin' Twitter feed, they, uh, ju-just said some mean shit?" He says, his words coming out like a question. "They like, called me some names and sa-a-id that I was really unattractive and, err- they said I was just a fuckin' fag, an-n-nd I was a flabby old guy who wasn't even fucking funny, and like- I go to therapy and some of it's for this shit, y'know? B-but it just...." He closes his eyes and curls into himself, his voice becoming muffled by his knees. "It hurt, Eds."

Eddie surrounds Richie in a warm embrace, curling his hair along his index finger. "I'm so sorry, baby.." He coos, frowning. He leans closer in, his forehead pressed against Richie's as he bites his lip, contemplating what to do. "Hey- you know what? Fuck those dipshits, Rich. They don't know what they're talking about, okay? You're the most handsome man I know." He coaxes Richie's arms and legs away from his torso, sliding his arm around Richie's waist. He puts both hands on his hips, his thumbs gliding across the bottom of Richie's stomach. He kisses down his forehead, along his nose, all the way to the nape of his neck. "You're beautiful, Richie, and I'm never gonna let you forget that. Every fuckin' thing about you- it's perfect and gorgeous and all I could ever want." Eddie smiles softly, resting his head on Richie's chest.

Richie smiles a bit, his cheeks pinking up a bit. "You wanna, uh," he clears his throat and laughs, lovesick. "Show me how?" Eddie returns his grin and nods, running his arm up Richie's sides and resting them on his navel. He traces a circle on the soft skin, smiling to himself.

"I'd love to," he answers finally.

It's a good night for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave some comments or kudos if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!


	6. update on the fic :(

Hey, folks!

I'm sad to report that I'm currently putting this fic on hiatus.

I felt like it ended somewhat- like it concluded alright in the last chapter? I still enjoy IT and I have plans for new fics and I'll still be responding to comments and kudos here- but all in all I'm just kind of done with this storyline. 

Thank you for all your support and I appreciate all the time and patience y'all have devoted to this story!

Much love,

Grey (The author.)

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on my social media stuff! >:\\\\\  
https://linktr.ee/teamfreepizzas


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